


Corporate Insecurity

by ReverseMousetrap



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Teasing, au where they're dating before the game, gayperion, misuse of company property
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14285019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverseMousetrap/pseuds/ReverseMousetrap
Summary: Vaughn is feeling inadequate. Rhys has an idea to cheer him up.





	Corporate Insecurity

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something as a warm-up to full-blown smut, and I also wanted to try writing Vaughn as the POV character. So...Gayperion! Now available in an elevator!
> 
> I'm gonna be in this tag forever.

Vaughn had always known that Rhys was the popular one, but he hadn’t realised quite how bad it was until that moment.

He hung back by a minimum of two steps, all but invisible as what seemed like half of Hyperion lined up to get a high five from Rhys’ brand new cybernetic arm. There were so many faces he had never seen before, but what was worse were the ones who deliberately looked past him – people he remembered from squash courts and team-building exercises, who flirted with Rhys like he wasn’t there because _surely_ he had to be kidding about that accountant who followed him around everywhere like a needy shadow.

Rhys was revelling in the attention, that big dumb gorgeous grin that Vaughn loved plastered across his face. He couldn’t blame him. Good-looking people were used to being liked; it was just the background noise of their lives, and Rhys was probably too damn sweet to realise that ninety per cent of them would throw him out of an airlock for a fifty-dollar bonus.

They finally reached the elevator, and Rhys pretended to wipe the back of one hand across his forehead as the doors closed behind them.

“What a bunch of jerks, huh?” he said, giving Vaughn a gentle nudge.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Even though he was studiously examining the floor, he could tell that Rhys was looking at him with genuine concern.

“You okay, bro?”

“It’s nothing,” muttered Vaughn. There was no point in complaining every time he was reminded of the unfairness of the genetic lottery. His boyfriend had already spent countless hours trying to ease his mind on the subject, and it never worked for more than ten minutes at a time.

“Hey,” Rhys said quietly. “Not one of those douchebags even sent a card.”

“Yeah, they were probably hoping you’d bleed out on the operating table.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so mean-spirited, but it was probably a more accurate reflection of his feelings that way.

Rhys sighed, loving and exasperated. “ _You_ were there the whole time. With the bandages and the user manuals and the home cooking, which was awesome by the way.”

A little colour crept into his cheeks. “Aw, c’mon. Yvette helped.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favourite. Don’t tell her,” said Rhys with a wink. “Man, I do _not_ deserve you.”

Vaughn turned away, watching the floor numbers scroll past. “Don’t.”

“I’m serious.”

Rhys’ hand brushed deliberately against his, the tiny contact enough to send a tingle up his arm. They were always careful at work, mostly by his request – between the official policy decrying workplace relationships as a drain on productivity, and his fear of being just another way for the sharks to get to Rhys, his feelings of inadequacy had surprisingly little to do with it.

“Hey, gimme a sec,” said Rhys, mischief in his voice. He held out his cybernetic arm and brought up a schematic of the elevator, and two seconds later the lights dimmed and the car shuddered to a screaming halt.

“What are you doing?” It was definitely not a shriek and he was _certainly_ not scared, he told himself.

“Something I’ve always wanted to try,” was the answer, whispered in his ear; at the same time Rhys’ cold metal fingers traced along his jaw, tipping his head back lightly. His other hand was splayed against the wall next to Vaughn’s head, and he leaned over him in a way that was as protective as it was suggestive.

“The cameras,” stammered Vaughn, his heart skipping a beat.

“Deactivated,” he said casually. A sly grin twitched at the corners of his mouth, and now that the initial shock was over Vaughn suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss that smug look right off his beautiful face.

Reaching up and twisting Rhys’ tie around the fingers of one hand, he pulled him down until their lips collided, gratified by the little gasp of surprise that quickly turned into a satisfied murmur.

“Missed you.”

They’d barely been out of each other’s sight for months, but Vaughn knew exactly what he meant. The last few months had been spent in and out of waiting rooms and doctors’ offices, working at home and staying up late just to keep up with Hyperion’s unforgiving pace. They were already less like a couple and more like cellmates who crashed in the same bed for five hours every night – and then Rhys was on the couch taking ten pills a day, and they didn’t even have that.

They were making up for it now, the kiss never breaking as they held each other tight. Vaughn let himself be pushed up against the wall, glasses well and truly askew, Rhys’ knee slipping between his thighs to bring them even closer. Sometimes he almost forgot about the height difference between them, but right now he was overwhelmed in the best possible way, almost melting as Rhys claimed his mouth with a bruising intensity. He shivered when he felt the cold, hard cybernetic hand running down his side to grab him by the hip, suddenly aware of the power behind the metal in a way that numbers could never convey.

The next thing he knew, Rhys’ warm lips grazed across his cheek and down to the sensitive skin just below his ear – his weak point – and Vaughn had to bite back a moan. “Fuck, I love you,” he choked out.

“Love you too,” answered Rhys with a quiet, devilish laugh, sucking gently enough not to leave a mark while still driving him wild.

Part of him wanted to take back control, remind them both that he could give just as much as he could take, but between the heat on his throat and the slow friction against his groin he could barely hold on to the thought. Vaughn managed to slip his hand free from where it was tangled and seize a fistful of his boyfriend’s hair, breathing hard.

And then a little red emergency light blinked on the opposite wall, and he froze.

Rhys noticed the change in him straight away, pulling back with a concerned expression, about to ask what was wrong when Vaughn’s other hand flew up to cover his mouth.

 _“Hello? Can you hear me?”_ a tinny voice called over the intercom.

The two of them looked at each other, horrified.

_“This is security. We’re trying to fix the breakdown and get you out of there.”_

Rhys had a very familiar didn’t-think-this-through look on his face. Vaughn let go of him and practically shoved him away, gesticulating silently at the speaker.

“Oh. Hey. Thought it was a little slow today,” Rhys said to the wall, panic just beneath the surface of his attempt to sound casual. “Can you, um…see us?”

_“Video feed’s still down. Might take a while to restore – something weird in the system. Audio’s good.”_

Both of them relaxed, leaning against each other in a much more platonic way than before as relief set in. That was at least one awkward HR meeting avoided, and if Rhys could play the hack off as a novice user’s mistake then they might even get out of the one about mistreating company equipment.

It was enough to give Vaughn the confidence he’d lacked before, hand trailing downwards between the two of them until he found what he was looking for.

All of a sudden it was Rhys’ turn to be surprised, head snapping down to look at him with wide eyes. He was subconsciously leaning into the contact, several moments passing before his mind caught up with him.

“Are you crazy?” he mouthed.

Vaughn shrugged and gripped him a little harder, smirking.

 _“What floor do you need?”_ said the intercom.

“Uh, f-five,” said Rhys, biting his lip as Vaughn’s palm glided over the bulge in his pants. “I think. Programming. Yeah, five.”

There was a pause. _“Is everything okay in there?”_

“We’re good,” Vaughn replied calmly. “He’s claustrophobic.” He gave him a gentle but deliberate squeeze, watching the other man fight back a groan. Rhys liked to be _loud_ , and he was struggling with everything he had not to give them away, his eyes shut tight and his breathing uneven. It was electrifying to watch, and he wished he could drag him all the way to the edge – but all too soon the lights were rising, the motor humming back to life in the distance above them.

_“Alright, fellas, we’re under way.”_

With great reluctance he let go of Rhys, exhaling deeply in the hope it would dissipate some of the tension, forcing himself not to think about what they would have been doing by now if they hadn’t been interrupted. They gazed at each other in wonder and adoration, and a little self-conscious smile crossed his face; he bounced up on his toes for one last little kiss before they had to steel themselves for the world outside.

“Well, I feel better,” he said cheerfully.

When the doors finally opened, the two of them stepped out of the elevator two feet apart wearing matching innocent, grateful expressions. Rhys slipped a folder from the hands of an unsuspecting technician with practised fake authority, holding it in front of himself as he walked down the corridor.

“When we get home,” he said from the corner of his mouth, “I am going to fuck your brains out.”

“Wow. That’s the best news I’ve had since you managed not to die,” Vaughn answered brightly, trying not to trip over his own feet as he considered the possibilities contained in that statement.

They slowed down as they reached the accounting offices, suddenly shy. “You know, I might make today a half-day,” said Rhys, looking off to one side. “Recovery’s tough.”

Vaughn placed his hands on his hips, nodding thoughtfully. “Good idea. Save your energy. But I can’t have you home by yourself all afternoon.” He raised an eyebrow. “Anything could happen.”

“Come over and take care of me?” There was something jarring about seeing those sweet puppy eyes in mismatched colours, but the effect was the same as ever.

“You bet, bro.”

Watching Rhys slink away down the hall with his hips swaying slightly and the modesty folder clutched in both hands, Vaughn realised he was in for a _very_ long morning.


End file.
